Let Me Love You
by x-MJ-x
Summary: "She was mesmerising, but that was nothing new. Even in the first days of their acquaintance right up to the moment when his feelings had moved beyond the professional, he had always been able to see the woman beneath the habit". Shelagh and Patrick are finally married and like every newly-wed couple, their wedding night awaits...
1. With This Kiss

**Hello all, **

**As you'll have seen, I've been popping up on reviews across this category and have been enjoying being a reader for a change, but I knew it wouldn't be long before I started to have an idea for my own story, hence why I'm posting now. This was originally intended as a one-shot but as you'll see as the chapters keep appearing, it was too long for that realistically and so I've split it into more readable chapters. There won't be that many probably five at the most, given that this is a wedding night story. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own 'Call the Midwife' its characters or plots -which seems even more important given the memoirs of Jennifer Worth – definitely worth checking out. Also all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Do enjoy!**

* * *

He remained silent, sitting patiently behind her, thinking that this was precisely what she would want. He had found his lovely new wife sitting before the fire in the living room, staring into the flames with unwavering concentration when he had returned from driving Timothy to stay with his Aunt for the night. Her body was pressed into the arc of his own and although she had not spoken, the way she instinctively moved towards him when he joined her told him that she knew he was there. As it often was between them, this unspoken knowledge was enough. From his current position, he made a study of his bride. She was mesmerising, but that was nothing new. Even in the first days of their acquaintance right up to the moment when his feelings had moved beyond the professional, he had always been able to see the woman beneath the habit. There had always been something entirely arresting in her piercing eyes. He watched her in profile now, noticing the reflected dancing of the flames in those beautiful eyes and realising with a slight smile that the endearing crimson blush which stained her right cheek could probably be explained away by the extra glass of wine the young nurses had coerced her into having. He was still amazed by her purity but just one look into those eyes told him of her wizened, knowledgeable soul and he loved how his wonderful wife encapsulated both of those things so perfectly.

She was a quiet woman, which was why he was unconcerned that silence had befallen them. He was quite used to it by now. During her time as a nun there had been so much that they could not say, he had become quite skilled at finding new ways to communicate his feelings to her – a penetrating glance which lasted just a moment too long, a compliment about her work in the community, anything which would illicit from her that small but perfect smile of hers and so the fact that they currently found themselves silent was perhaps more significant than if they had been deep in conversation. It was a contented silence, a happy quietness which allowed him to appreciate all the things he loved about her, the sheer, muted brilliance of her and the devastating quiet beauty she possessed. He adored her, she was wondrous to him.

After a time, their proximity was no longer enough for him, he was desperate to touch her – to feel the beautiful softness of her beneath his work-roughened, calloused fingertips but he did not know how to even begin to be worthy of her in that way. He took a breath - his heartbeat already racing the way it had every moment of their courtship - as he leant ever closer to her, allowing his fingers to brush her hip. She flinched and he quickly withdrew. "Shelagh," he murmured close to her ear "are you happy here my darling?" he asked, glad that she could not see the pain in his eyes.

"Hmm?" she hummed as if she had really not known she was in company. "Oh! Patrick," she said in surprise, suddenly becoming aware of the way his body surrounded hers. She reached back a little, taking the hand which had just been at her hip in hers and drew it to her lips. Her kiss caused his breath to catch in his throat and he let out a relieved sigh.

"I'm sorry. It's just that this is all so new to me. We have not been alone very often and I have been so used to spending my days in silence, unable to speak of the feelings in my heart – I forget that I can now speak them freely to you."

"I understand Shelagh; it must be difficult for you to be away from your sisters."

She hesitated a moment before replying "I miss them, of course I do, but they will always be a part of me. I am happy here with you. You're just going to have to remind me that I must tell you what I'm feeling, you must not suffer on my account."

"Do you know I find it quite fascinating to watch you; you have a quiet loveliness about you, as if you can find peace in the stillness of your thoughts."

She turned slightly in his embrace, nuzzling his cheek a little. "It comes from my closeness to God, but I have found a different kind of peace with you. I feel true contentment for the first time in a very long time."

"I'm glad. Sometimes I look at you and I can't tell what you're thinking, whether you regret your decision..."

"Patrick, please believe me when I tell you, I have realised complete happiness with you. I am overcome with love and it is all for you. There is... _one_ thing I regret however," she said, returning her gaze to the flames.

"What's that?" he asked, pressing his lips to her hairline.

"Well... I regret not having kissed my new husband... _properly_ yet," she paused a moment, trying to find the words to say what she needed to. "I have been wondering since this afternoon... Why didn't you kiss me in the chapel?" she asked her voice small and birdlike.

He hung his head and it brushed her shoulder as he drew in a breath. "I've upset you haven't I?" he asked regretting his actions immediately. "Shelagh my love, forgive me. I just thought perhaps you would be embarrassed... if I kissed you whilst your sisters bore witness. Believe me, since that day in the mist I have wanted nothing more than to kiss you, but it has never seemed appropriate. I wanted to court you as you deserved to be courted..."

"...and you did Patrick but we are married now. Things can and must be different between us," she laughed a small, nervous laugh before continuing. "We are both guilty of it, but it seems to me that we need to let go of Sister Bernadette and Doctor Turner now, it's time for us just to be Patrick and Shelagh. We have been apart long enough, now it's time to be together," she said moving away from him and kneeling to face him. "I am your wife Patrick and I could not call myself that if I did not even know what it felt like to kiss the man I love," she said, resting her hand to his soft cheek.

"You are so wise Shelagh that I simply don't feel worthy of your love," he told her turning his face to her palm and kissing it as he had done in the chapel when they had been pronounced man and wife. "I worry that I will always be inadequate as a husband to you," he said.

"Patrick, please do not treat me as if I am a Saint in human form, for I am certainly not. I am just a woman and I am in love with a man. I am the same as any new bride on her wedding night. You do not need to treat me as if I might break, I am not naive – I am a midwife after all - and you must believe me when I say I give myself to you willingly."

"I'm sorry, my darling, I'm sorry," he said sliding his hand along her jaw and delighting when she shifted closer to him and the knee length skirt which comprised her modest two piece suit rose up her thigh just a little.

"Enough, Patrick, enough. Please just kiss me," she said interrupting him.

"Shelagh, I love you," he murmured as leant in close to her and pressed his lips to hers.

* * *

At first her mouth remained tensely shut as she tried to become accustomed to his kiss, but when she didn't react and he began to pull away, she found that she was left wanting and it was a feeling she knew would only be assuaged by his lips.

"It's alright," he murmured as he found her lips again and she allowed her palms to rest against his chest.

He began to press against her lips with more pressure and slowly, he allowed his tongue to push against her tightly closed rosebud mouth. She whimpered, the shock of it surprising her, but he slid his tongue along her slightly parted lips and she sighed as she let him in. He stroked the soft, warm walls of her mouth and she quickly followed him, pushing herself up a little and grabbing his shoulders as she tried to deepen the kiss. Kissing him, being able to express her love for him in this physical way made her heart beat faster and filled her with joy. Soon, she found that she was becoming breathless and was forced to pull away. Unwilling to completely relinquish her new found closeness with him, she nipped at his lips until he bent his head and began pressing kisses to her neck, settling his hand on her waist.

"So Mrs Turner, how did it feel?" he asked, stroking her hand and entwining their fingers.

She sighed, utterly contented. "Wonderful," she breathed, kissing him again because finally she could. "If you only knew how many nights since the fete I have laid awake imagining what that moment would feel like, you would be quite ashamed of me," she blushed.

"Shelagh I could never be ashamed of you my darling. Besides, what right would I have to think badly of you when I too have lain here alone; restless in my bed thinking about how much I wanted you there with me?"

She drew in a sharp breath as she considered what he had just said and she placed a hand back on his chest. "Well..." she hesitated a moment, biting her lip a little, "Patrick, now I can be," she told him, averting her gaze, unsure that it was wholly appropriate to say it so overtly.

"You know there's no rush don't you?"

"Patrick I told you before, I'm your wife and this is our wedding night. Why can't you understand that I want to be with you?" she asked pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth before he could reply.

"I'm sorry Shelagh; I just don't want you to feel that I'm pressuring you..."

"You _were_ there this afternoon weren't you, Patrick? because I remember taking a vow this afternoon, I made a promise to you and you made one to me- 'with my body I _thee _worship' - I meant it. Tell me you meant it too."

"Of course I did, I do."

"Well then, darling, please let me share myself with you. Please, I want us to spend our wedding night together as man and wife. If I wasn't completely certain, I would never have left my religious life. I know my own mind for the first time in a long time and I... want _you_- can you trust that?"

"If you're sure, then so am I," he told her, kissing her again as they got slowly to their feet.

She let her hand drift to his hip for a moment, her body already beginning to blaze with nervous excitement. "Would you excuse me, just for a few minutes?" she asked, thinking about the contents of the last suitcase she had brought with her to their house.

"Are you alright?" he seemed worried.

"I'm fine," she smiled. "Please don't worry; I'll only be a few minutes."

"Shelagh..."

"I'm fine," she said, kissing his cheek before she went to the door and began to ascend the staircase.

* * *

**Well there it is, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, the next two will appear in pretty quick succession but I've not actually finished this yet so bear with me. Let me know what you thought. **

**Please excuse any minor editorial mistakes, they are my own and I've done my best to get rid of them. **

**Thanks for reading **

**xx**


	2. As My Truest Self

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own 'Call the Midwife' its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Thank you for reading and do enjoy. **

* * *

Alone in the dark bathroom of her new home, Shelagh gripped the edge of the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. She hardly recognised the young, vivacious woman who stared back at her. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint and her cheeks were flushed by lust and by the one too many glasses of wine she had drunk. She felt free and unrestrained for the first time in many years and yet, as she opened her suitcase and peered inside, she wondered if she felt quite so brazenly ready for her wedding night as she had felt in his arms.

She took several steadying breaths and reached up into her hair, unfastening the first bobby pin which held her loose up-do in place. The process of taking her hair down took far longer than she anticipated owing to the sheer number of pins the young nurses had used, but slowly each separate burnished golden curl - which Trixie had painstakingly rollered in last night- came tumbling down and fell about her shoulders. She wasn't sure she would ever get used to seeing herself this way – she knew that even Patrick was having trouble reconciling her appearance now with the conservative nun she had so recently been, but the way he looked at her, the way she could feel his eyes on her gave her a thrill she would never tire of.

She teased her hands through the curls a little, watching them straighten and then spring back into place as she tried to tame the unruliness of her hair. She remembered what the girls had said last night as they'd sat up drinking Horlicks - the smallest details were important they'd said, so even just one hair out of place mattered to her. She knew that her fussing was delaying the inevitable, but there a small, niggling fear rising within her. What if she wasn't ready for this after all? This thought stopped her for a moment, but then the memory of their kiss filled her mind and she began to feel excited again.

Her fingers moved to the first of the buttons on her modest little jacket and she popped it with a little difficulty given the poor light, but she did not reach for the lamp – she could not bear the embarrassment and so struggled on for the short time it took to undo the jacket completely. She slid it carefully down her arms, avoiding the mirror with the upmost diligence as she reached behind herself and drew the zip on her skirt down. It pooled at her feet and she swept it quickly from the floor and put it on the small wooden chair in the corner. For a moment she thought she was having an attack of panic, but she forced herself to have courage and raised her eyes to meet her reflection.

She was hardly recognisable, this woman standing in the bathroom wearing only her thin white slip and the somewhat extravagant undergarments Trixie had absolutely insisted she purchase, much to her blushing embarrassment. She bit her lip a little as she moved her hand to the left strap of her slip and pulled it down her arm. The other strap quickly followed it and she shimmied the thin material down her body until it too was pooled on the floor. As she turned to retrieve the item she needed from her suitcase, she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She could not suppress the gasp which escaped her. Far from the asexual form she had trained herself to see, she was confronted with the knowledge that she was strikingly feminine. Although she was slight and hardly as voluptuous as women prided themselves on being now, she could not deny the curves of her hips and the modest mounds of her breasts. She just hoped that she would be pleasing to her husband. Feeling a flush of awareness she had never felt as a nun -having taught herself to distance herself from the acknowledgement of both her sex and sexuality - she put her leg up on the chair and set about detaching the sheer stockings she wore from her garter belt and rolled them down her legs. Remembering what Trixie – who had given her a_n intensive course in seduction – _had said, she left the belt in place. Apparently it was source of great pleasure for a man to do the honours with regard to that particular item. She shivered slightly at the thought and reached into the suitcase.

The final two items of her wedding night ensemble had been gifted to her by her young friends and, as she put them on, she experienced the same pang of doubt she had when they had first been presented to her, but instead of focussing on that, she remembered the advice Trixie had given her – '_the idea Shelagh is to tempt your man.' _She just hoped she could.

"Lord," she said, her eyes upturned "give me strength," she whispered. It was almost at that precise moment that she heard a knock at the door.

* * *

**There it is, I hope you're enjoying this so far... let me know. **

**Please excuse any minor editorial mistakes, they are my own and I have tried my best to get rid of them. I'll post the next bit soon. **

**xx**


	3. As A Man Loves A Woman

**Thank you to everyone reading this, thank you for the reviews and the follows, they mean a lot. Here's the next bt for you. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own 'Call the Midwife' its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

"Shelagh, darling, are you alright?" he was all concern for her.

"Yes, Patrick, I'm sorry I'm taking so long, I'm fine," she told him, her palm pressed to the door. "Would you turn down the lamp in the bedroom?" she asked, thinking about the light she had left on in there and suddenly not feeling half so confident as had first felt.

"Why? What's the matter?" he asked his soft voice close on the other side of the door.

"Nothing," her voice was high and unconvincing. "It's just... well... I'm not entirely sure that the way I'm dressed is quite... appropriate after all."

She heard him chuckle a little and her cheeks flamed with the embarrassment of her naivety. "Well, Mrs Turner, there seems to be only one thing for it," he said.

"What's that?" she said, experiencing the thrill associated with her married name.

"Let your husband be the judge," he sounded as if he were in pain, but she reasoned it must the pain of love.

"You'll turn down the lamp?" she said, her hand already on the door knob.

"I will," he said and she heard his footsteps retreat across the landing and enter their bedroom. She waited a few seconds before she opened the door.

* * *

He paced the small between the door and the bed a few times as he waited for her, his heart pounding with the exhilarated thrill of what would shortly ensue. He had told her the truth when he had said that he'd spent many nights longing for her company and he had yet to reconcile himself to the fact that her company in the night was a reality now. Running a quick hand through his hair, he began to loosen the dove grey tie he wore, letting it hang from his collar as he worked loose the first two buttons on his shirt. He heard the slight squeak of the bathroom door and held his breath as he waited for his wife to join him.

He tried to find words when she entered the room, but he found himself quite silenced by her ethereal loveliness. He struggled with the need to say something for a while longer, but it was her who broke their silence.

"_You_ didn't turn down the lamp," she said, her eyes firmly fixed on the ground.

"_You_ had no need to worry," he said beckoning her to him.

It was only when she was close to him that he could appreciate the true exquisiteness of her. Her hair was loose and that was change enough, but it was not the thing which captivated his attention. Gathered at her elbows she wore a silk dressing gown, cut in an oriental style but even this he could easily bypass. He was far more interested in the nightdress she wore. Almost the colour of her beautiful flesh, it plunged into a 'V' which it surprised him to find she had even considered. Now that she had properly stepped into the light, he was truly able to recognise the effort she had gone to and it took all his power not to growl something wholly inappropriate to her when he realised the sheerness of the nightdress. Beneath it, he could make out the outline of an exquisite set of ivory silk underwear and his body shook as he thought about the moment when he would strip her out of it.

"So... how do I look?" she asked shyly, "I know it's very..."

"Beautiful," he said, an instinctive reaction.

"You are _very _beautiful Shelagh," he told her, raising her chin with his fingers. Her cheeks flamed instantly and he could not resist bending to kiss her.

She responded to his kiss with unbridled passion, almost falling against his body in her attempt to get closer to him. "Then you like it?" she smiled, relieved above all things.

"I do. Very much," he said almost afraid to touch her lest the perfection be spoiled.

"I wasn't sure about it when the girls suggested it. Apparently it is very in the French style but I am not well versed in the latest fashions. I am unused to dressing... provocatively."

"Well then, it may surprise you – and perhaps I should not say it at all- but as you say we are married now, I always found your wimple and habit incredibly... _provocative_. Perhaps it was the element of the forbidden about it, about you – but it always forced me to work harder, to look for the woman behind the cloth..."

"...and now you can see me, am I what you expected?" she asked still unable to look at him.

"You are more Shelagh, you are everything to me," he told her, moving his fingers to her chin again and making eye contact unavoidable. "You don't have to be afraid darling; I'll take care of you. I intend to be a gentle lover to you, I promise," he said and looking into his eyes, she knew she could trust that he would be.

"I know you will be Patrick," she said, her hands sliding from his shoulders and moving towards his semi-exposed chest. She had never known the touch of a man, but as he pulled her flush against him, she could never have imagined anything being more sensually pleasing. As her fingers snagged in the dark whorls of hair upon his soft torso, she felt the thudding of his heart beneath her soft fingertips and she felt slightly easier, perhaps it was alright that she was experiencing a tense mixture of desire and fear, he seemed to be feeling something similar.

"It's beating so fast," she murmured as she leant into him, pressing a kiss to the pulse point in his neck.

His breath tightened as her right hand sculpted its way down his torso and popped the button it made contact with through its eyelet. "It's for you Shelagh," he muttered pressing closer to her and causing their hips to meet and she cried out, a soft, erotic sound as she felt it and understood him, all in the same moment.

"Does it surprise you – that I want you this much?" he asked, feeling the growing discomfort of such close proximity to her.

She said nothing for a moment, finding that there was nothing she could say. In the tense silence, she allowed her fingers to slide lower, grazing the fastening of his trousers. She desperately wanted to touch him but... oh... she couldn't, could she? As if in answer, she felt him surge unexpectedly towards her, evidently sensitive to her touch. "Well... it does seem rather _un-gentlemanly... _but you are my husband now and can be forgiven for dispensing with such _conduct," _she managed through a wholly irrepressible gasp.

He smiled, pleased that he could illicit such a response from his wife. It delighted him that inside Shelagh Turner, he could still see elements of the shy young nun he had fallen in love with. "On the contrary Shelagh," he said, his hands moving to the knot at her waist and pulling it free until her dressing gown crumpled to the floor. "As your husband, I will be the perfect gentleman," he said, surprising her as he scooped her into his arms. "I intend to show you just how much I can love you," he said, kissing her as he carried her to their bed.

"I know how much you love me Patrick," she sighed happily.

"Believe me darling," he said. "I've not even begun."

* * *

**Hope you're enjoying this, let me know. **

**Do excuse any minor editorial issues. **

**Thanks for reading **

**xx**


	4. With My Body

**Thank you for reading, reviewing and following this, it means a lot. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own 'Call the Midwife', its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics.**

* * *

She let out a frustrated moan as her arms gave way, unable to support her as an intense ripple spread through her body – it was an uncomfortably delicious sensation she was unused to but which she would soon associate with pleasure – pleasure only he could give her. She felt his lips on her, somewhere near her left knee and her right knee rose, reflexively sliding upwards, as she shifted, trying to get closer to his wonderfully soft mouth. His journey up her body was maddeningly slow and she thought she might die from the pain of their separation if she could not kiss him soon. Mere seconds passed and he was soon caressing the sensitive, burning flesh of her inner thigh with hot, opened mouthed kisses as his fingers gripped the hem of her nightdress and began to hitch it up.

She curled her fingers into the quilt, her hands fisted as she prepared for his mouth to graze the inferno at the very centre of her, but he did not. His lips avoided giving her this satisfaction – the desire for which she had never known before but now found to be most desperate. She cried out, a long, high yelp which she could not feel ashamed of. She heard the rumble of his laughter against her thigh as the nightdress rose to her hip and at first her cheeks flamed with the indignation of being a source of his amusement, but that feeling quickly dispersed. Instead her eyes fluttered shut and she concentrated on the notion that the mild vibrations upon her thigh were intensely pleasurable. Never had her thoughts been so unclear, so simultaneously fixed on a goal – to feel everything he wanted her to feel- and yet so disorientated. Her emotions were running high, at one moment she was angry in an unbidden way – that he would not meet her lips that he would not touch her where she desired him most- and in the next she was soaring on the wings of a joy she had never experienced in the embrace of God.

As he abandoned his ministrations to her thigh and continued his quest for her lips, he dragged the thin nightdress evermore upward, his urgency speaking of the unspoken desire for skin to skin contact, a desire she shared. The flimsy material snagged at her waist and over the sound of their mutually tense breathing, she was sure she heard it tear. She knew she should care – the lingerie had not exactly been cheap – but she found that she could not. It just meant that he would achieve his goal faster, a fact for which she rejoiced. He fisted the nightdress, becoming she could see, acutely aware of the damage he had done. He looked as if he was about to say something but reaching her hand out and placing it on his cheek, she stopped unnecessary apologies. It didn't matter. Smiling a small relieved smile, he turned his face towards her fingertips and kissed them, seeing understanding in her eyes. When the nightdress was under her bust, she reluctantly arched away from the mattress, temporarily halting contact between them as he pulled it from her.

Wearing only the expensive underwear she had purchased for precisely this reason and finding herself at the mercy of his penetrating gaze, she suddenly felt shy and tried to cover herself, but he grabbed her flailing arms and pinned them with one skilled hand above her head. Her cheeks flushed and she bit her lip, trying to avoid his gaze but he quickly pulled her around to face him. When faced with his beautifully emotive eyes, she saw only lust and love there. He leant down kissing her one final time before he allowed his lips to brush against the elegant protrusion of her collarbone, moving lower and lower still until his hot mouth connected with the soft silk of her brassiere. She gasped as he enveloped her – silk and all- and tried to arch into him, suddenly desperate for more of this attention. His rough fingertips seemed to find the front clasp, but he bypassed this, his hand trailing her stomach and moving to the silky knickers she wore. This most intimate touch seemed to set her already burning body ablaze and she whimpered, realising the power of her gentle husband.

* * *

When he silently asked for permission to proceed, her nod was almost imperceptible but it didn't matter, her body knew what she wanted, knew what she must do, even if her mind did not. Lifting her hips and arching from the bed a little, she waited the tense seconds it took for him to slide the underwear down her legs and squeezed her eyes shut as she waited for... what? She wasn't sure. He was still almost fully clothed, his shirt was open and hanging from his shoulders but his trousers were still buttoned, so it couldn't be... but she sensed something... _significant_ was about to happen between them. Several more tense seconds passed and she was almost sure that he'd changed his mind when...

"Oh!" she cried, her body flying upwards from the bed as he kissed her intimately, his tongue sliding into her body as he coaxed and drew her hot flesh into his mouth. It was the first sound she had made since he'd carried her to bed and it hardly summed up what she felt. This was like nothing she had ever felt before, this was pleasure unbounded and she never wanted it to end. He shifted a little, withdrawing his lips and the kiss he had given her, quickly utilising his fingers in his mouth's previous employment.

She cried his name, exulted in the sound of it in the otherwise silent room as she felt her legs widen to accommodate him and became aware of his fingers tightening and curling within her. She could hear the sounds she was making, although they sounded completely foreign to her. She had never known she could feel like this, never known those noises could escape her and yet with his every touch, he created in her another note to add to the hymn of their love. She'd always felt at her closest to the Lord when she and her sisters had offered Him a song, but now lying beneath this man who was doing for her something so... _amazing_, so _Heavenly,_ she wanted to sing her thanks to her lover here on Earth. As he continued his relentless attentions, she began to feel the white-hot knot of pleasure which was twisted in her stomach unfurling. The feeling of utter contentment spread throughout her until she felt lightheaded. Acutely, she noticed that the delighted noises which escaped her were reaching a loud crescendo and she wondered what it would sound like when she reached the peak of her pleasure. She never got to find out. Something inside of her released and suddenly she had lost control of her mind, surrendering to the joy which rocked her body.

It could only have been minutes, but it felt like hours until she began to return to her senses and when she did, she could hear her husband murmuring something and felt his lips on her forehead as he pushed her long hair from her face. "Beautiful," he said, kissing her still closed eyes, her cheeks, her lips and she had to agree with him. What she had just experienced was something indescribable as anything but beautiful, but as she opened her eyes and met his, she knew that he was not talking about what he had just done for her, but was rather referring to _her_. To be called beautiful by him was something she had longed for in the depths of her loneliest nights and hearing him say it now, knowing that he meant it, made her even more certain that her decision had been the right one.

* * *

She allowed him to kiss her whilst she recovered from the delicious lethargy of achieving complete satisfaction, but as his lips began trail his way down to her collarbone, she began to feel the rising discomfort of un-satiated desire welling within her again. Without warning, she surged upwards into a sitting position, forcing him to accommodate her as their chests collided.

"Please Patrick," she murmured pressing a kiss to his mouth as her hands slid beneath his open shirt, making their way to his shoulders and pushing it down his arms. "Please."

He said nothing as he reached behind himself and pulled the shirt from his forearms, discarding it carelessly. When he turned back towards her only seconds later, her hands were on the clasp of her brassiere and he pushed them away roughly, his own fingers making short work of the delicate fastening. The silk gaped, leaving her exposed to him and he didn't even try to stifle his reaction – which manifested itself in the deep groan which filled the room. He shifted against her, the dark coarse whorls of hair on his own chest brushing against the perfect paleness of hers and eliciting from her the most deliciously satisfied sigh. He pushed her back a little, destabilising her and forcing her to slide her hands backwards to support herself as he bent his head and took her pink peak into his mouth. Unable to control himself, he felt his teeth nip at the sensitive skin and she cried out in half-pained pleasure. She tried to stay up but he felt her give way beneath him and quickly disengaged himself from her, taking a moment to glory in her completely bare body.

"Darling," she muttered, her head thrown off to one side as she struggled with the overwhelming desire she felt. "Darling, please," she begged, suddenly fixing him with her penetrating stare.

He kissed her again, his hands everywhere, unable to stop touching her. He was desperate to explore every inch of her, to know her as no one else could. He moved himself so that he straddled her and closed his eyes as she ran two fingers down his body and flicked at the button-fastening of his trousers. She popped it through the eyelet, dragging the zip down and together they got him out of them. It was only now that just his underwear separated them that he became aware of just how painfully he needed her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she ventured her hands lower, feeling for the first time the extent of his desire for her. Finding courage, she slid her hands into the waistband of his underwear and began to draw them down. Using her feet she shucked them down his strong thighs and they rolled down further still until he was able to kick them away. It was with alarm for both of them that the potency of his love met with her softness and they both remained frozen, unable to do anything but kiss as they adjusted to this new intimacy.

"Shelagh... darling," he said, his voice thick with emotion and desire. He sounded as if he was in great pain, she could sympathise with that.

"It's alright," she said "I need you too," she nodded, a small sign of her encouragement.

* * *

He entered her as gently as he could but as rested above her, waiting for her body to accommodate him beyond the initial warm welcome she had given him, he could not fail to perceive the dichotomy of pain and joy on her face. He balanced his weight on his hands, trying not to hurt her more than was necessary as he bent towards her and kissed away the single tear which had rolled down her cheek upon his entry. He hoped that this gesture would be enough to assure her that this pain would end.

Shelagh's body blazed. White hot blades of pain shot through her but she after tense seconds which stretched to what felt like the length of hours, she became thankful for the growing desire she felt which seemed to overtake the pain, forcing it into submission. Whilst she kept one hand fisted in the quilt, trying to subdue the pain for good, she allowed the finger nails on her right hand to sink into his shoulder and was gratified by the groan which escaped him. Soon, the pain subsided and she only knew that she wanted to be closer to him, as close as it was possible to be. She arched her back towards him, drawing herself up to him and felt him slide deeper into her. Thankfully, her body no longer wished to reject him and instead she felt him fit her almost as if they had been made to be this way together. He was the thing she had felt was missing from her life, he made her complete. She met his lips again, never getting enough of his kisses and felt him begin to move against her. Since they'd become engaged, she'd thought about this moment frequently, always finding herself overcome by the fear that she would not know how to give him what he wanted, but her body seemed to know without realising it how to please him.

Neither of them could deny the fast approaching crescendo of their love for long. Whilst she was not an experienced lover, he had not felt the touch of a woman in many years and the knowledge that she was so responsive to his every touch was almost too much to handle. He tried to apologise for his lack of control, but she assuaged him with her tenderest kisses and the firm declaration that she loved him and he could not have been more thankful for his beautiful, understanding wife.

As he found the moment of surrender upon him, he fixed his gaze upon her wanting to watch her as she was overcome by his love. "I love you Mrs Turner," he told her watching her writhe and hearing her moan his name in proud exultation "I love you so much," he said, unable to hold back any longer.

When they were both recovered enough he scooped her close to him, brushing a kiss to her hairline as she tangled her fingers in the hair on his chest. Quiet had befallen them once more and this made him smile. He had come to understand something about his precious new wife, in the quiet moments they shared she found contentment, but in their silence she expressed her most ardent joy and this was happiness enough for him.

As he allowed his eyes to shut and breathed in the scent of her – a scent which surrounded him completely, making him want her endlessly – he heard the soft murmuring of her beautiful voice. "I love you too Patrick," she said and their silence resumed. Enough had been said and in each other's company, they had both realised joy...

* * *

**There it is. I hope you enjoyed it. Given the heavy dialogue in the previous three chapters I wanted this chapter to be more about the sensory experience and only used dialogue when necessary. A new technique for me and one which I hope you like. I have one more chapter of this for you – unwritten as yet – but it will just finish it off, so I'll post it soon. **

**Please excuse any minor editorial mistakes; I've tried to get rid of them all. **

**Thank you as always, for reading. **

**Xx **


	5. As Your Wife Should

**Hello lovely people, **

**Thank you once again for the reviews and follows on this one. I know a couple of you left me some guest reviews – I did receive them but have been away from my computer for a few days and was unable to validate them in time, I appreciate them so much though! **

**As I said this is the last chapter on this one, owing to the interest I may start another one at some future point but I have to get all my others sorted first I think! **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own 'Call the Midwife' its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Upon waking and noticing that his wife was absent from their bed, Patrick tried not to worry as he made his way downstairs. A quick search of the living room proved her absent and it was not until he became aware of a soft sound coming from the kitchen at the back of the house that he began to feel the release of the knotted tension he had vaguely been aware of. He'd heard the young midwives talk of it on countless occasions in the past, but owing to the restrictions Nonnatus House and her life of religious service imposed upon them, he had never been privy to it. Until now. It was the sweetest sound and if he had thought her an angel last night as his name tumbled from her lips over and over, it was nothing to what he felt about her now. He'd never heard such Heavenly purity before and as he made his way along the dim hallway towards the kitchen, he focused only on the sound of her voice. Surprisingly, she was not singing a hymn, but rather a popular song he had heard many times but could not name. Never had he heard it the way she sang it. Before he let himself open the partially shut door he closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him for a few moments until the sweetness of the song caused desire to rise within him.

* * *

Pushing the door open, he saw her standing by the counter, her fingertips tapping against it as she waited to hear the whistle of the kettle as it boiled on the stove. Completed absorbed by her beautiful mystery as she busied herself with making what appeared to him to be breakfast, he indulged his voyeurism, revelling in the ability to watch her this way. She stood with her back to him, completely unaware of his presence and as she spread the toast with one of the many condiments Sister Monica Joan had gifted her with, he simply took in the perfection of her. Clad only in the thin dressing gown he had shed from her all too quickly last night, she had left little to the imagination. He allowed his eyes to run up the length of her long pale limbs, until they met the hem of the dressing gown and he noticed the perfect swell of her bottom as it was hinted at in the lingerie. He swallowed, trying not to draw attention to himself, but soon watching was not enough. He had to touch her, he had to have her.

"There you are Mrs Turner," he said, striding into the room and encircling her in his arms.

"Oh!" she startled as he pressed himself against her and she became alarmingly aware of his state of complete undress. "Patrick," he could hear the smile in her voice as she turned her head just a fraction and nuzzled the side of his slightly stubbly jaw.

"You have a beautiful voice," he said.

"I'm sorry," she said automatically, trying to remember what her previous employment had been before he had consumed her thoughts. "I hope I didn't wake you," she said.

"Your absence from our bed woke me Shelagh," he said, his voice low and dangerous. She shivered with desire.

"You," she smiled, running her hand over his strong forearm, "were supposed to stay there. You know Sister Julienne arranged for Dr Peters to be on call so you could have the morning off. I was going to bring your breakfast to you in bed."

"I'm sorry I ruined the surprise," he murmured into her hair.

She mewled a little sound of content before she spoke and rested her head back against his bare shoulder, bringing her lower body dangerously close to the insistent hardness of him. She let out a squeak of delighted surprise. "I was just trying to be a good wife, to take care of your needs. To do my duty," she said.

"Well Mrs Turner, since breakfast in bed has gone out of the window... I can think of another way you can attend my needs." He widened his legs, pressing himself firmly to her so that she could not avoid the realisation of his want for her against the cleft of her bottom. Hearing her breath tighten, he slid his hand between the folds of her dressing gown until his rough fingertips brushed against the erect peak of her left breast and he cupped her as she sighed with pleasure.

"Here?" she murmured the question as the hand which had been wrapped around her moved to the perfectly tied bow at her waist. "In our kitchen?" the thought seemed incomprehensible and she blushed as she felt the gathered fabric loosen, exposing her.

He made some noise of affirmation against her cheek as he turned her face towards him. "Draw the curtain," he muttered, motioning towards the small window directly in front of them.

She did as he bid, hardly able to move since she was shaking so violently, with lust and minor discomfort. Drawing in a breath, she said nothing as he pulled the dressing gown down her arms and let it pool at their feet. She did not feel half as confident by the light of the bright new morning as she had in their bed last night, but she tried to push that feeling away. "I've not even done my make-up yet Patrick," she said feebly.

"You don't need it Shelagh, you're beautiful just the way you are," he said, his voice a low growl as he pulled her face around further and let his lips meet hers.

She threw her head back against his shoulder once more, flattening her palms against the work top in front of her as he quickly moved from her lips to her neck, his kisses sending thrills up her body. Becoming his willing marionette, she allowed herself to be manipulated until she was facing him.

"Open your legs," he said darkly as he engulfed her lips with his own. To his surprise however, she did not immediately comply, fixing him instead with a penetrating which almost unnerved him. "I said open your legs," he repeated, his hand sliding down her body until he found her thigh. Sliding his fingers higher he met the readiness of her, slipping into her body with ease.

He felt her tense around him almost immediately and could not hold back the satisfied laugh which escaped him. Leaning forward and catching her lips as she arched into him desperate for his touch, he took her gasps into his mouth as if they were the lifeblood upon which he thrived. He worked her for a few seconds, wanting her to be as relaxed and satisfied as possible but released her before she could achieve bliss. The sound which tumbled from her lips at this disappointment was so delicious he could not help but steal another kiss from those beautiful lips. "Shelagh," he muttered and before he had even thought about it, he was helping her to hitch herself up on the edge of the worktop behind her.

Her legs parted instinctively to accommodate him. Now she had had a taste of his love again, she was desperate for more, he could never give her too much. Her eyes fluttered shut as both his lips and skilled hands explored her body, kissing, touching and coaxing her beyond the point of madness. "Shelagh, darling, _I want you_, so much," he said, the desperation in his voice mirroring the feelings which raged around her own body and soul.

"I know Patrick, I know. I want you too," she replied, unashamed of sharing her feelings with the husband she adored. "Please, take me, please," she begged, reaching into the small space between them and gasping when her fingers brushed his bountiful want for her.

Her eyes flew open when his fingers brushed her jaw and she kept her eyes fixed on him, seeing all her love reflected back at her as slowly, she guided him into her. They both let out breaths they hadn't even been aware they were holding as he entered her and their hips met. For several long seconds they were frozen, but then she kissed him, a sign of her acceptance and he moved his hands to her hips to steady himself as she rose up from the worktop edge before sinking back down and feeling him fill her completely again.

"Patrick," she moaned as she allowed her hands to caress his strong shoulders and slide down his back.

Heat and love coiled within her in a painful knot as he thrust into her and she met him until she was only vaguely aware of the way he fondled her breasts and pressed kisses to her collarbone. She had not mastered the art of restraint, but if his breathing was anything to go by, Patrick was just as affected by her as she was by him and she knew that soon enough they would know each other as well as only a husband and wife could. For now she was content with the heady rush of excitement she experienced when they were together, the conflicting emotions he inspired in her and the way he satisfied her. Suddenly, she felt him surge into her and after that could remember nothing.

In the aftermath of the hasty love they had made, both were silent as he rested his hands on her bare thighs and they tried to steady their breathing. "I love you," she said after a while because it was the only thing she felt, all she wanted him to know.

"I know," he nodded with a smile "I love you too," he told her, drawing her in for a kiss which lingered on for seemingly endless seconds. "So... how about to accomplish your first duty as Mrs Turner, you and I make this house ours?" he paused a moment stepping away from her and towards the door. As he waited in the archway he could tell she missed him. "Exactly like that," he added referencing their recent act of love.

She smiled that infectiously wide smile of hers, nodding as she slinked from the worktop and reached out for his waiting hand. "That's a duty I will relish," she said as they headed through the door.

* * *

**Well there it is, I hope that you have enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Do let me know what you thought of it and as I said, look out for further fics in this category from me – I've kind of caught the bug! **

**Please forgive any minor editorial hiccups, I've done my best with them. **

**Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this, it's meant a lot to me. **

**Xx **


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